


Hand on Heart

by kuolema (salainen)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, first dates are weird in Desert Bluffs, medical shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salainen/pseuds/kuolema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin meets his crush, Carlos' double and founder/president of StrexCorp. Mad science ensues.</p>
<p>Originally written for/posted on the kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand on Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Word of warning: this story includes blood, gore, vivisections, organ-touching, what may or may not be medical kink, and science/anatomy that may not make any sense in the real world.

The StrexCorp labs are not located far from the radio station, sitting quietly in the centre of downtown as they do, but Kevin has never been there. In fact, no one but the employees has ever been in there, if the stories are to be believed. Or, at least, they're the only ones who come back out, if certain other stories are to be believed.

They are not to be believed, by order of StrexCorp.

So it was a bit of a surprise (a pleasant one, of course! Always a pleasant one!) when he got a phone call from the president's secretary himself asking him to come down for a meeting with the actual president. It had only been his sense of professionalism and the harsh penalties for describing the president's movements without written permission that had kept Kevin from telling all of Desert Bluffs about it -- really, was there any better news to share than this? A private meeting with the head of StrexCorp, who kept the town as perfect as his hair? -- but he remained silent on the subject. Maybe if it went well, he'd be granted permission to speak of it! And wouldn't that just be the bee's knees?

The staff had evidently been informed of his arrival ahead of time, all of them smiling brightly and directing him to the president's office, for which Kevin was duly grateful. It wouldn't to do keep such an important man waiting! Then they'd both have to take time out of their weekends to catch up, and surely someone like the head of the greatest company in Desert Bluffs had all kinds of big things on the go, even on Saturdays.

Kevin took a seat in the waiting area outside the office door (a tasteful mahogany-and-lead affair) and quietly waited his turn, his hands folded in his lap and a smile on his face. The waiting area was nice: a small desk with a secretary against one wall, chairs against the other; clean and sunny with the soothing sound of hellish screaming being piped through the sound system. _Was it already time for Barry's show?_ Wow, time was really getting away from Kevin these days.

"Sir?" says the secretary after a few minutes. "Doctor Reyes is ready for you." The office door swings open, waits for Kevin to walk through, and swings shut again.

The office behind is half-laboratory, all white tiles and stainless steel with various experiments and specimens lying about. One of them looks vaguely familiar.

The man himself is leaning against his desk, rapidly typing something into his phone with a look of intense concentration on his handsome face. His hands and the sleeves of his labcoat are soaked in blood, but the clothes underneath are impeccable. He finishes his message and pockets his phone before approaching.

"You must be the Voice of Desert Bluffs! Welcome to StrexCorp." He offers Kevin his hand to shake. It's very soft.

"Nngh," says Kevin. 

Doctor Reyes laughs. It sounds how angels would laugh, were angels obviously not completely fake. "You're a lot more articulate on the radio."

"Oh, god, I'm sorry!" he exclaims, getting a hold on his vocal processes at last. "I was just so overwhelmed! It's not every day you get to meet the man who made Desert Bluffs the wonderful little community it is."

"I can't take all the credit for that," he demurs, "it was a lovely town when I got here. I just ...tidied things up a little. Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I called you over here today, and I don't want to keep you from your daily business any longer than I have to, so I'll get down to it.

I'm sure you remember that sandstorm we had recently -- fascinating phenomenon, what with the doppelgangers -- you met yours, right? I didn't get to -- such a shame, it would have made some of my experiments that much easier if I had another me and I just can't get the clones to come out properly -- excuse my rambling, I'm letting this run away with me a little! As I was saying, during that sandstorm we received a number of duplicates of our citizenry, many of whom unfortunately suffered violent deaths while visiting our fair city. Most of them were truly identical copies, aside from certain superficial differences, but one of them showed a marked change from the control." He gestures for Kevin to follow him over to one of the lab tables, where the body of a young woman with a gruesome head wound is lying down.

"Intern Vanessa?" he says.

"Alt-Intern Vanessa, yes. I did have to perform a vivisection on the surviving Vanessa to compare, but she should be fine now."

Kevin does recall that she took a StrexCorp-approved sick day not long ago. Another mystery solved! Doctor Reyes opens the Y-shaped incision on Alt-Vanessa's chest, exposing her organs. Kevin peers in, curious.

"Now, from this vantage, everything should appear normal." Kevin nods, but he honestly wouldn't know. He's a radio host, not a purveyor of fine meats or even a doctor, after all! "But if we remove the heart --" he does so, "-- you can see that there's an additional organ located in the chest cavity."

With Alt-Vanessa's heart safely in the doctor's hand, he can see that there's something laying in there. It's small and mostly unremarkable, aside from the shocking blue colour. "What is it?"

"That's the best part!" Doctor Reyes beams. His teeth are very white and very sharp. "I had to run a lot of tests on it to determine its function. For a while I was worried I had only discovered another useless organ, like an appendix or a liver, but once I moved past the more obvious choices I figured it out. It's a mental receiver."

Kevin blinks his black eyes a few times. "It's what?"

"It's a receiver for thoughts! I didn't think of that immediately due to its location -- I would have expected something like that to be a part of the brain, but the human body is such a mystery sometimes. It works sort of like a radio set, except it receives thoughts and sensory data from other people instead of radio waves. You just have to tune it to the scene you want to examine and you can investigate from miles away! The one in Alt-Vanessa seemed quite limited in range in the testing I performed; I imagine her superiors had more impressive ones."

"Well, that certainly is interesting! But I'm afraid I don't understand why you wanted to tell me about it."

His grin is enormous and terrifying. "I didn't bring you over to tell you about it, Kevin. I've reverse-engineered a mechanical version, with the power amplified, of course, and you've got the honour of having the first one installed! Outside of beta-testing, anyway. Can you imagine the possibilities of an omniscient newscaster? Your productivity is going to skyrocket!"

"Oh! All right, then. What do I have to do?"

The doctor breaks about three laws of physics to widen his smile even more. 

"Just come over here," he says, walking Kevin over to one of his other examination tables and sitting him on the edge of it. "Before we get started," he continues, unknotting Kevin's tie and pulling it from his collar, "are you one of the fifty-three percent of us without pain receptors, or am I going to have to anaesthetize you?"

Kevin is touched that he asked. Most doctors preferred to find out on their own! "You don't need to do anything on my account," he says. "No pain receptors."

"Good," the doctor replies, now working on the buttons of Kevin's shirt. So efficient! "Good, good, good. Don't move, I'll be right back."

Doctor Reyes heads over to the sink, removing his labcoat and latex gloves, and washing the dried blood from his hands and arms. He doesn't put the coat back on when he returns to the table. It feels strange to see him without it, his sleeves rolled up and his arms cleansed of his last subject's blood. Kevin helps him pull on a new pair of surgical gloves and lets himself be laid down on the table, the doctor's hand pushing down on his chest.

He leaves it there as a counterweight as he begins the necessary incisions. For a few minutes there's only the warm pressure of his hand and the edge of the scalpel parting layers of flesh, curiously pleasant; the loud snap of the doctor making his way through his rib cage; and then -- well, if he thought the incision was strangely enjoyable, it's nothing to having his hands actually inside him. It's electrifying, even though Kevin is reasonably certain that the ECT machine is still over in the corner. The doctor doesn't give him much time to accommodate, and goes straight for the target, right for Kevin's heart. His cuts are quick and precise, and before long, Kevin is gazing up at his own heart, pulsing in his doctor's hand. Doctor Reyes puts it very gently into a kidney bowl as he reaches into Kevin's chest cavity to prepare for the receiver's actual installation. He lays what looks like an endless network of wires, attaching them to Kevin's nervous system, through and around his lungs. He looks focused but content as he does it; Kevin wishes he could see his hands from this vantage. At last he moves to the device itself, threading the ends of the wires into it and nestling it snugly into its new home behind his heart.

"I've switched it on," the doctor says. "Can you feel anything yet?"

"I feel as great as ever," Kevin replies, not noticing anything, but not wanting to impugn the doctor's work.

"Have to make some calibrations. Your brainwave patterns are quite unique," he says, grabbing some small electrical tools and making some slight adjustments. It suddenly flares to life, an unknown pressure starting in Kevin's chest and crawling up the back of his throat.

"I can feel it now," he says, a little breathlessly.

"Good," the doctor says, turning his attention back to Kevin's currently-homeless heart. It beats faster as soon as he picks it up, blood dripping down his forearms and onto the table. It begins to pound in earnest when he begins to exert pressure on it, manipulating it to accommodate the new addition to Kevin's entrails. It presses against the doctor's strong, elegant fingers, resisting the reshaping until it's eventually forced to give in to his wishes, reformed to his specifications.

He nestles it safely back where it belongs, and begins the process of reattaching it. It's slow and soothing, the only feeling the tug and slide of the needle and thread stitching him back together again. Then come his ribs, realigned and regenerated with the help of a large electronic device, and finally his skin, put back in place with stitches and staples. It's going to leave such a wonderful scar.

Doctor Reyes even helps him get dressed again, knotting his tie with expert hands before pulling him to his feet. He stands with only minimal shaking, which is good, because he was worried he'd have to take the whole day off, and that would never do.

"I'll give you a week to master the implant's capabilities," he says. 

"I don't think it'll take that long, Doctor!"

"That's the spirit," he smiles, showing his perfect, sharp teeth again. "You know, you're quite the subject. We should do this again sometime."

\---------------------------------------

"Did you hear that, listeners? A _date!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: this marks the first time I've ever done research for a fic, and it was to find an appropriate last name for the good doctor here.


End file.
